Monday afternoon, a few weeks later, finds you stumbling into your office, your head feeling like the bass drum in a marching band. O'Malley's already there, laying on your couch. He sniffs the air as you move past. "Last I heard, scotch is still illegal," he says.

"So's breaking and entering," you mutter.

"Your secretary was kind enough to let me in," he replies.

"Rita quit two years ago. What do you want?" You're in no mood for friendly banter.

O'Malley sits up, serious now. "Johnny the Roach is dead."

"Genghis Kahn?"

"No, Loretta. He came home early Sunday morning, smelling a lot like you do now, I imagine. She went through his clothes while he was passed out and found this." He tosses you a note.

"Who's Juliet?" you ask.

"That was Loretta's question. Except rather than wake Johnny up and ask him, she stabbed him in the neck. Remember in that first note, she thought the word 'Honey' referred to her?"

You see where he's going. "Honey for Juliet - she thought he was trading up."

"Bingo. And 'cheap killers' didn't sit well with her either. I think in her mind it was self-defense."

Poor Loretta. Maybe a judge would agree, but you doubted it. "So where was Johnny Saturday night?"

"Not with anyone named Juliet, as far as I can tell. He was at a party Genghis was throwing at a speakeasy on West Devon for Louie Naso."

You remember the name. Naso the Nose was one of Kahn's lieutenants, but - "I thought he was in prison."

"Got sprung last week on a technicality. Guess that's what the party was about."

Can you decipher the note?